


What Happens At Ragnarok...

by AnthroQueen



Category: Dagorhir, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Dagorhir - Freeform, Eventual Smut, Evil Kate Argent, Fluff and Smut, Knotting, M/M, Peter is a Little Shit, Roleplay, Stiles Stilinski Doesn't Know About Werewolves, Werewolf Politics, Werewolf Sex, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-14 05:03:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4551582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnthroQueen/pseuds/AnthroQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles slips through a tent he believes belongs to his friend, Lydia, but actually belongs to one of the Warlords of his fighting unit, Derek Hale, trying to take a shortcut to go for a late night swim while at Ragnarok.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Accident of Fate

Stiles crept into the tent at the end of the row, intending to cut through the darkened structure on his way to the woods. The heavy canvas parted with a soft rustle of sound, and he entered total darkness when it slithered closed behind him. He knew the girl who slept in this encampment, and didn’t think Lydia would mind the intrusion should she happen to wake up. The tent was probably twenty feet deep, so Stiles trailed his fingers along the heavy canvas wall to keep himself from tripping over the bedrolls set up in the center.

His fingers idly bumped over Lydia’s armor stand, casually tracing the surface as he continued on his way through the tent. After what seemed like hours of quiet, careful steps, he reached the far end of the tent. He ducked down and crawled out the “secret” back flap that Lydia had set up for her own evening escapades. Stiles  tucked his chin into his chest and almost kissed dirt to keep his fox ears (apparently he’d forgotten to take them off after the last event) from catching on the tent’s ties and fabric.

Finally. He scooted through the dirt a bit to make sure he was clear of the tent before popping up and jogging into the dark. He didn’t run far, just enough to put distance between himself and any sleeping campers. He could see the fires glowing around the camp, casting shadows for at least a mile in all directions. He could see the communal fire in the center of camp, could hear the joyous screams of the nighttime revelers.

He slipped into the woods, following the footpaths that led deeper and around, bringing him to the lake. He breathed deep of the air and felt all his muscles relax, slipping out of his clothes like they were nothing, leaving only his boxers on. He could’ve melted into the cool, lapping shallows right then if not for the sudden knife at his throat and the band of searing iron he could only assume was an arm around his waist, hauling him backwards. He froze- unsure if this was an evening jest or if he was in real danger. The knife, at least, was real enough- live steel.

“What have we here? A little foxling, away from his den?” The voice was a deep bass growl, vibrating sensuously down his spine. He shivered. “You shouldn’t sneak through tents that don’t belong to you.”

#

Derek had jerked awake at the opening of his tent entrance, sliding from his bedroll to stand at the edge of his canvas home, back to the heavy canvas wall. A short, pointy earred figure slipped inside. He stiffened, taking a deep breath before relaxing. It was only a human, and a familiar one at that, though he couldn’t place the scent directly. Being in Dagorhir gave him the ability to hide what he was, but it also kept him on edge, wondering who else was hiding.

Still, what was a human doing in his tent? What kind of joke was this? He watched the figure keep to the outside of the tent, trailing it’s hand along the exterior. Signaling someone outside that it was empty, maybe? The person kept coming, closer and closer to him, actually trailing it’s fingers over his chest, seemingly unaware that he was alive.

He caught sight of the ears- bright orange- in the moonlight as the person ducked down and out of the back of the tent. His heart skipped a few beats. There was only one fox-kitsune cosplayer in their unit, and, thus, their camp. _Stiles_. Derek licked his lips, a wash of warmth covering his skin in a blush.

He’d been watching Stiles from afar ever since the scrawny little “fox” had joined their unit, dreaming about sparring with him, tackling him to the ground, wrestling until… Derek shook his head. Focus. What the hell was Stiles doing in his tent? Or rather, walking through it.

A shortcut, maybe? He frowned after the pert butt that had just disappeared out the back flap of his tent, realization dawning. Lydia obviously hadn’t told Stiles that they’d switched tents. Why, he had no idea. But it wasn’t a good idea for Stiles to be wandering around the campgrounds by himself. Especially not after the prank he’d pulled on some Mirkwoodians earlier that day. Telling himself that he was taking his position as a Warlord too seriously, Derek pulled on his belt of accoutrements and ducked out the back to follow the mischievous fox.

He enjoyed the breeze that cooled the sweat from his skin as he watched the toned, tightly clothed ass of his prey disappear into the woods. He knew his eyes were glittering red, he could feel the anticipation of the chase starting to build. He growled at himself, trying to talk himself down as he set off after Stiles. It wasn’t like that. He was just going to go to keep an eye on him, keep him safe in case some Mirwoodians saw this as an opportunity for revenge. Nothing more. Unfortunately, the growing erection in his pants and the heat that was steadily growing in his chest didn’t seem to believe him.

 


	2. Lake After Dark

He caught up as Stiles exited the woods by the lake. Going for a late night swim? Ok, he was seriously just asking for someone to come along, steal his clothes, and pelt him with pebbles. Derek growled in the back of his throat. Someone needed to teach that tasty, spaz some self preservation. Everything inside of him was raging to be closer to the lithe muscles bared under the moonlight, to lick the smooth skin, to nip at those cute, damning moles.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, he thought, watching Stiles tap a single toe into the water, shivering. He pulled his blacksmiths file from his belt, tapped it on his thigh, thinking about all the ways this could go wrong. Optimism, ever the hard hitter, whispered in his ear, But what if it doesn’t? And his mind was flooded with images of Stiles naked, sweaty, moaning… Derek was behind Stiles in a heartbeat, wrapping one arm firmly around his middle, the other holding the file, flat side, to Stiles beautiful throat.

“What have we here? A little foxling, away from his den?” He growled the words next to Stiles actual ear, pulling him firmly back against his body. He trembled deliciously. Dereks’ stomach tightened with need, anticipation curling in his belly. “You shouldn’t sneak through tents that don’t belong to you,” he mocked, taking a deep breath of Stiles hair. His hair smelled like sweat and meadows, not the typical cloying cologne scents that a lot of men seemed to bathe in. Derek much preferred the chemical free version he was enjoying tonight. “Or wander alone, troublemaker,” he said, deliberately using the nickname that the Mirkwoodians had bestowed upon Stiles after today’s stunt.

He pressed the file more firmly against Stiles throat, and started dragging him backwards. By now he could probably feel that the steel in his hand wasn’t a blade, but Derek was still a wall of muscle to Stiles smaller mass.

 “Ah, c’mon, what the fuck, take a joke..!” Stiles whined, struggling to get away from Derek, seeming to realize that the “blade” at his throat was a dull piece of metal. Derek let him struggle, enjoying the feel of Stiles bumping and grinding against him. Too much. His cock was starting to get hard enough to be seriously noticeable.

The whole time Derek dragged Stiles back towards the treeline, only a few feet to be sure, Stiles whined and complained and struggled. Derek tucked behind a tree, bracing his back against it as he let Stiles go, watching him fall forward, ass in the air. It took no small amount of willpower to keep himself from reaching out and rubbing himself against that ass, or even just palming a handful… No! Derek jerked back against the tree, planting a smirk on his face, tucking his thumbs into his belt to try and help him keep his damn hands off Stiles.

#

Stiles was startled by the sudden release and, with his usual amount of grace, went sprawling, landing on his face and forearms. He groaned. Rude. He scrambled to his feet ready to give those gold diamond jerks a piece of his mind. Unfortunately, upon reaching a vertical position, the person smirking at him with thumbs tucked suggestively into his belt, chest bare to the moon, with one foot braced on the tree. Derek. He almost choked- as it was he made an inarticulate strangled noise. Derek raised a single eyebrow at him, eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Derek," Stiles coughed, scuffing his bare foot on the ground, trying not to gaze adoringly at all the flesh being offered up for viewing. He failed, of course, because his eyes felt starved for the sight. He'd been pining for Derek ever since before he'd joined Dagorhir. If he was honest, watching Derek fight with his unit in the park down the street from Stiles job was what had spurned on Stiles interest- in Dagorhir and in Derek. But that had nothing to do with the right now. Stiles mentally shook himself, lifting his eyes up to glare at Derek.

“Hey, what’s up with that?” Stiles brushed the dirt off his knees, trying not to notice that he wasn’t wearing anything but a pair of thin boxer briefs. If Derek smiled too hard in Stiles direction, Stiles little secret crush was going to become glaringly obvious. He could feel the pink already starting on his cheeks, which likely meant that his chest was flushing too. “I thought you were that asshat Thalos. Stick can’t take a little joke.”

Derek grinned, rolling his hips off the tree and pushing himself forward. The movement was very suggestive to Stiles already heated brain. He was definitely staring. And Derek was talking, about something, as he walked towards him, muscles moving deliciously under beautifully tanned skin. Stiles eyes were glued to the black happy trail that disappeared under the edge of brown cotton that was hanging dangerously low on Derek’s hips. A tiny tug is all it would take, he was sure.

He licked his lips, his eyes daring to dart lower for just a second. The blush hit his face so hard it made Stiles dizzy. Shit. Derek had a boner. A not insignificant boner that was tenting his garb as he walked towards Stiles. Ok, how could that not be deliberate? Those hips did not sway like that naturally, surely. But he couldn’t take his eyes off it now. Was Derek still talking? He didn’t know. He’d stopped moving, but he was honestly only a foot or so away from Stiles, so Stiles direct gaze had to be very obvious. Oh gods, look up! Stiles eyes jerked up from the crotch of his favorite warrior to his favorite warriors eyes. Which were red as fresh apples. Had he been wearing his contacts the whole time…?


	3. Vengeful Desires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look for next update on Saturday, September 5th!

He could smell it- Stiles arousal. It had hit him like a fucking train as soon as Stiles had been upright and staring at him. Just the thought that the cute, awkward, way-more-popular-than-he-would-ever-realize, troublemaking Stiles found him so attractive… It was all Derek could do not to strut when he’d started walking forwards, making an idle comment about mischievous foxes getting their just desserts. He made sure to walk slowly, watching the ways Stiles eyes were riveted to his body. He knew by the time that he reached Stiles that his cock was close to full mast, and from what he could see and smell, Stiles wasn’t far behind. He also knew his eyes were red and his fangs had dropped- nothing he could do was going to force either or those things away, not when his senses were being bombarded by need.

Stiles looked up at him, eyes dilated, tongue darting out to lick his lips. Derek watched his tongue, stomach tightening. He wanted to feel that tongue, those lips, on his body. Gods, it was a physical need.He licked his own lips in response. Watched Stiles watch him. His stomach was a ball of knots, but he wasn’t going to be able to just stand there for much longer. He had to touch Stiles, to feel him. Even if it were just for a second.

Derek reached forward, cupping his hands under Stiles elbows, and dragged the other man up against his body. He closed his eyes for a second, reveling in the feel of Stiles pressed up against him, Stiles hands gripping his biceps. It was like a dream. When he opened his eyes and looked down, Stiles was glaring at him.

#

Stiles couldn’t believe it. Someone, ahem, LYDIA, had probably told Derek about his crush, and now they were teasing him. There was probably someone with a camera hiding in the woods. Fine. He guessed he deserved a little bit of torment, seeing as he dealt out a fair bit himself, but he wasn’t going to just take it. That wasn’t his style.

He could feel Derek’s erection against his stomach and had a brief moment to wonder which of the girls in their unit had been convinced to give the looming Celtic god pressed against him a hand job for this endeavor? Doesn’t matter, he thought dejectedly. He’d known Derek was straight, but he hadn’t thought he was cruel. Whatever, he’d give him and all the watchers a show they’d never forget.

Stiles reached up and grabbed two fistfuls of Derek’s hair then, with a brutal jerk that elicited a growl from the other man, pulled Derek’s lips down to his. Heaven. Stiles tried to remember it was a vengeance kiss, a show, but as soon as he felt Derek’s lips on his, he melted, plain and simple. He’d been waiting for months to feel the way Derek’s lips felt on his own, and he was not disappointed.

They were soft, but Stiles pressed hard, feeling the edge of Derek’s fangs behind them. Gods, did the guy sleep in his persona..? Not that he minded, the fangs were hot. The lips were wet, damp from the swipe Derek had given it a moment before with his tongue, yet at the same time dry and slightly chapped from half a week under the sun. Stiles moaned,pressing his mouth hard enough against Derek’s that he forced the other man’s mouth open when he opened his, thrusting his tongue into Derek’s mouth.

He was angry, and hurt, and horny as hell. Stiles couldn’t stop kissing Derek. It took him a minute to realize that Derek wasn’t pushing him away, that Derek was kissing him back. That Derek’s hands had slid from his elbows to the back of his neck and the small of his back, molding Stiles bod more firmly against his own. Whoa.

That didn’t make sense, not if this was a joke, a prank. That didn’t make sense at all. Stiles tried to pull back, needed to wrap his head around these new thoughts, but Derek’s arms were like steel bands locking their bodies together. What was going on?

#

He kissed him. Derek didn’t know why or what was happening. He didn’t understand the anger and hurt that he could smell mingling with Stiles scent. But the moment he felt Stiles lips, like two rose pillows, beneath his, he stopped caring. His world narrowed down to the feeling of Stiles lips against his, then of the taste of Stiles in his mouth. It was enoug to make him weep with joy. He slid his hands around the other man, holding him more firmly, molding Stiles body to his own, rubbing his erection against Stiles belly.

Then Stiles tensed up, trying to pull back. Derek growled, locking his arms, not giving an inch. He wasn’t ready to relinquish this heavenly world he’d been thrown into. His stomach was trembling, his muscles tense, and his whole world smelled like Stiles. But when Stiles pulled back a second time, Derek let him. Not far, just enough that he could rest their foreheads together, their panting breaths mingling.

“The fuck..?” Stiles said, his voice barely above a whisper. Apparently he hadn’t been expecting the ferocity of Derek’s response. Derek knew that when he leaned back, sliding his hands to Stiles waist, the look he gave the other man could only be described as predatory and hungry. He didn’t care. He’d been waiting for this moment, and he wasn’t going to let it slip away for a foolish reason. If in fact there was a reason.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, his heart tripping over itself just a little bit when Stiles looked up at him with half glazed, completely bewildered eyes.

“You kissed me,” he said, voice soft and confused, his brows drawn down slightly. Derek lifted one of his own eyebrows in response, not sure what Stiles meant. Of course he’d kissed him. But then, Stiles had kissed him first. He said as much. Stiles started sputtering.

“Well, ok, yeah, but.. I mean..I thought you.. and there...” He untangled his fingers from Derek’s hair to gesture with them, pointing to Derek then the woods and back. Derek waited patiently, eyebrow raised, for Stiles to calm down and try again. Stiles cleared his throat and dropped his hands down to his side,simultaneously dropping his forehead down onto Derek’s chest. Derek buried his nose in the short, brown mess and waited for Stiles to finish.

“I thought it was a prank and there were people watching and I got so mad and what the hell though I thought you were straight and then you kissed me back and it was just, wow, ya know, but that didn’t make sense either…” Derek cut off the ramble by grabbing Stiles head and jerking it back. He knew his eyes were burning, could feel the heat crawling under his skin, and he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was the crazy human in his arms that, for some reason, had the worst self esteem of their unit. Can’t have that, he thought.

“Allow me to demonstrate just how not straight I am,” he growled, toppling Stiles to the ground. 


	4. Send Me to Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's later than promised! But worth it!

Stiles stared up at Derek, at the crimson red contacts that were - _hello_ \- glowing down at him, and felt the muscles of his stomach tighten so hard and fast that his whole torso vibrated. He could feel his heart beating like a war drum in his chest, his throat- hell, he could feel it reverberating inside his skull. Was this really happening? He couldn’t believe it. Derek Hale was pushing apart his thighs. Derek Hale was nuzzling his stubbled face down Stiles chest, probably leaving behind very obvious beard burn. Derek Hale, the shirtless god-devil, was hooking his oh-so-very long fingers into the waistband of Stiles underwear. Derek Hale was…

“Ohmygod.” Stiles voice came out in a gaspy whoosh of air as Derek yanked off his boxers. The air was warm and humid on the freshly revealed flesh, and so was Derek’s breath. Derek’s… Stiles fingers fisted instantly in Derek’s hair. Derek growled at him. He almost said something about taking his character too literally but fuck it was so sexy. Instead, in a voice that was far too high pitched, he said, “What are you doing?!”

Derek grinned up at Stiles, everything about his face screaming devilish mischief. “I’m about to teach a little fox about the dangers of prowling the woods alone at night.” His tongue flicked out over the head of Stiles cock, the tip of his tongue following the groove along the underside. Stiles eyes rolled back, and one of his hands fell away, limp fingered, while the other lay passive in Derek’s hair. “And you better fucking believe I’m going to enjoy this lesson.”

The last was growled in a bass even deeper than Derek’s normal gravelly tones- a bass that rubbed like fur up Stiles’ spine all the way to his neck- right against the tip of Stiles cock. Then Derek’s beautiful, plump, lips slid over the head and Stiles knew he was a goner.

Derek’s mouth was hot and wet- he seemed almost greedy for the taste of Stiles. His hands were like bruising foundations, holding Stiles in place while that mop of black hair bobbed up and down, short and aggressive sucks that were fucking perfect. Derek’s tongue kept flicking along the underside groove, his teeth barely grazing along the skin. Stiles felt his back arch off the ground just a little bit, fought the urge to drive his hips up to meet Derek’s face, to fuck the mouth that was undoing him. Derek moaned around a mouth full of cock and Stiles whimpered. He was not going to last very long and wasn’t that pathetic..?

“No,” Derek said, with a wet popping sound as he released Stiles dick. The loss of Derek’s mouth felt like a tragedy. Stiles whimpered piteously, his hips jerking in need. Derek wrapped one of his hands around Stiles cock, pumping lazily, eyes roaming greedily over Stiles flushed and panting torso. “No, I want that, too,” he said. Shit. Stiles had been talking out loud again. Not that he could feel much remorse because -hello- super hot guy sucking him off and wants him to come in his mouth? Stiles groaned and dug his fingers back into Derek’s hair.  “Do it,” he said. “Fuck my mouth, come in my mouth. Because, Stiles,” he paused, waited for Stiles eyes to focus on him. “I’m going to return the favor.”

Derek’s lips closed around the head of Stiles penis once more, and Stiles thrust helplessly into the hot heat. One of Derek’s hands was digging into the earth at Stiles side, but Stiles could feel the fingers of the other probbing his ass. The second that finger slipped into his ass, one finger- gentle, questing- Stiles came. He cried out Derek’s name and slammed his hips up to meet Derek’s mouth, his hands holding Derek there, his hips rocking urgently, as he came in spurts down Derek’s throat. And Derek swallowed him down.

#

Derek swallowed as Stiles came, his throat working convulsively, nostrils flaring as his body sought air. He stayed down as long as he could before reluctantly pulling back with a final suck that made Stiles whimper and a cough to clear his throat. Derek was fighting the urge to rub his face against Stiles dick, scent marking him and getting Stiles scent on him in turn. His fingers bit into his palms as he watched Stiles, body limp, panting, face serene and filled with the look of ‘did that really just happen?’. Derek grinned down at Stiles, could tell from the up-kick in his heartbeat that the grin was probably a little menacing. He didn’t care. He wanted Stiles. All of him.

Derek slid Stiles pants back on, picked the smaller limp man up and tossed him over one shoulder. Stiles giggled, and then coughed, presumably to cover the giggle. It made Derek’s heart warm as he practically ran out of the woods and towards his tent. He dropped Stiles rather unceremoniously to the ground before pushing him through the flap and into the tent. He turned on his camping lantern before he chanced a look at Stiles. The “fox” looked fine, sitting contentedly next to Dereks sleeping bag,  resting back on his elbows. Dereks cock throbbed, demanding attention.

Derek could still smell Stiles arousal, though it was faint now, mostly sated from the attentions in the woods. Stiles eyes were taking in the sight of Derek, roving over his chest and the muscles in his thighs, widening at the very obvious proof of his attraction. Derek stripped of his belt, adding a slight sway to his steps as he walked forward, making it a show. He dropped to all fours, leaving the belt behind as he crawled towards Stiles.

He could hear the tripping of Stiles heart, could smell his arousal kicking up again. He felt his teeth drop fang. Stiles thighs dropped wide when Derek touched a hand to one of his ankles. Fuck, Derek wanted to be inside him so bad.

“We’re not done, brown eyes. Not by a long shot,” Derek said, looping his fingers into the waistband of Stiles boxers once more.

Stiles fell back onto the sleeping back with a whimpered, “Oh, thank god.”


	5. This Is Definitely Smutty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut, smut, smutty smut smut! :)

Stiles closed his eyes as Derek stripped him naked. He didn’t care if this was a dream at this point. It was amazing and if he never woke up and just kept having sex with Derek forever that was ok, too.

Derek’s hands slid up the outside of Stiles thighs, causing a shiver to run up his spine. It tickled, feeling the hair on his thighs move like that. What definitely didn’t tickle was feeling Derek’s lips on the inside of his thigh, traveling up. His eyes popped wide open, pupils dilating in shock. He made a strangled noise.

“Pretty sure we just did this..?” Derek grinned, his lips sliding over the head of Stiles dick. Stiles eyes nearly rolled at the pleasure he got from that little suck. “Not that I’m.. ah! Ooh!.. complaining!” Stiles back arched slightly off the sleeping bag. His skin was still so sensitive from his last orgasm.

Then Derek lips were off his cock and running up the trembling muscles of his belly. Derek licked around Stiles nipples, placing chaste kisses on each. Stiles huffed out a laugh, “Tease.”

Derek caught one of Stiles nipples in his mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub, catching it gently with his teeth and tugging. Stiles moaned, rocking his hips up slightly. When they rocked back down, it was onto one of Derek’s fingers. Stiles eyes went wide. He’d never gone this far before. Sure he’d made out with plenty of guys, even jerked a few off, but this… His stomach clenched in anticipation as tiny jolts of pleasure trickled from his ass to his cock.

#

Derek played with Stiles nipples as he gently pushed one finger inside Stiles ass. The thinner man whimpered, arching his chest, lengthening the pale column of his throat. Derek stared up at the pale column, jaw practically slack with want. _Why deny myself..?_ He thought. _He’s mine. Tonight, at least, he’s mine_. Derek slid up Stiles body, pumping his wrist, crooking his finger just so. Stiles whole body jerked. _Gotcha_.

Derek grinned almost menacingly against Stiles throat as he slowly added a second finger. He pushed it in to the second knuckled as he grazed his teeth over Stiles jugular. He could practically taste Stiles life in the erratic thumping of blood that pounded just under the surface of the skin. He licked the pulse beating under his lips, his senses drowning in the smell of Stiles arousal.

He moved his head away from the temptation of Stiles throat, focusing anew on the other man's lips. He kissed him. Soft at first and then harder. His lips were devouring Stiles, his mind wrapped in nothing but a manic haze of lust. He was humping his hips against the ground just below Stiles ass, fingers practically shoving into him. Stiles moaned and whined, lips just as hungry, hands sliding into Derek's hair and over his shoulders. Their mouths were a battleground of teeth and tongue and lips. There were no survivors when Derek leaned back- both parties were panting, sweating, and so horny it hurt.

Derek scooted forward on his knees, pressing his throbbing cock against Stiles own. He ground against him, rubbing their dicks together, his skin sizzling with the friction. Now. It had to be now. He needed inside Stiles. Needed to feel his tight walls around his throbbing shaft, to watch Stiles squirm and moan beneath him… He pulled his fingers out and reached past Stiles head to grope around in his duffle bag, finally pulling out a small bottle of lube. He squirted a small palmful into his hand before setting the bottle aside.

“Are you ready?” He asked as he shivered, the cold gel-like lube sending a tingle up his spine. He looked at Stiles who had already grabbed the underside of his thighs and was holding them up, his ass like a small, pert offering. Derek growled at the sight.

“First time,” Stiles panted out, hands gripping his thighs so hard they were white knuckled. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated. “Go slow, ok?” Derek gave a jerky nod, his stomach jumping. His first. He would be Stiles first..? His wolf began to pace expectedly, growling and snarling. It wanted.

Derek took a trembling breath, his hands on Stiles ass, lifting him up, spreading him wide. He pressed the lubed tip of his cock against Stiles ass. He pushed, slowly, steadily. Stiles moaned, head falling back against the ground. Derek’s eyes almost crossed at how tight and right Stiles felt. He stopped when he got the head in. It cost him, but he did it. _Slowly_ , he chided himself.

“Ok?” The two syllables were all he could manage. Stiles nodded, wordlessly.

Derek pushed in farther, going slowly, until he reached his base. Stiles whimpered, and Derek couldn’t tell if it was pain or pleasure. He pulled out to the head of his dick, then pressed back in, a little faster than before. No objections, so he did it again. And again. And again. Soon he was thrusting, gently but quickly. Stiles was moaning, pushing back against him, needy.

The wolf rose at the thought, and Derek felt it. The need to bare his fangs, to bite and claim, to just fuck. To mate. To please. He pulled out of Stiles with a swift jerk, nearly panting with want when the other man cried out in protest. He flipped Stiles over, placing one hand on the back of Stiles neck, forcing his face to the floor. He used his other hand to jerk Stiles ass into the air. He whined in the back of his throat, watching as Stiles pushed his hips back in a silent plea. If only he knew what that did to Derek…

The wolf thrust back into Stiles, hard and fast, all the way to the base, slamming his cock home. Hard and harder.Derek couldn’t slow down, couldn’t soften his thrusts. All he knew was _now_ and _need_. Stiles hands were scrabbling at the slick cloth of the sleeping bag, clutching at the fabric, emitting moans and whimpers and broken cries of, “Derek!” and “Oh fuck yes..!” from his kiss bruised lips.

“Stiles..!” Derek growled, his voice barely recognizable, his eyes flaming crimson. He could feel his claws trying to slip out, could feel his climax building. Stiles whimpered in response. “Fuck, I’m coming..!”

“Oh god, yes, please, me, too,” Stiles whispered. “Please, please..!”

Derek thrust into Stiles again, all the way to his base, his hips rocking gently as he cam in hard jets.It was like his cum was that catalyst, and Stiles came, too. He could smell it, could feel it in the way the other man’s body was twitching beneath his. He let go of Stiles neck, he hand falling to the side to support his weight, letting him rest his head against Stiles back.

Then he felt it- his knot. It was swelling. Derek’s eyes went wide. Shitshitshit! He jerked his hips back, pulling his knot out before it grew enough to catch on Stiles rim, watching as his base swelled, nestled against the outside of Stiles ass. He panted, his hips twitching with the need to thrust back into Stiles hole, to force the knot back in, to fill him up, to claim him. When he’d finally stopped coming - how long had it been?- he pulled out, laying down on his stomach next to Stiles limp and languid form, carefully tucking his still swollen cock beneath him with a wince.


	6. Let's Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings! Talking! Cuddles!

Disbelief was the only cloud in the otherwise joyous skies of Stiles mind. He could not believe that that had just happened. He’d had sex. With Derek Friggin’ Hale. His whole body was limp, his mind was lightheaded from the onslaught of blood leaving and rushing… Hell, even his eyesight was slightly blurry. Not that he was surprised. Derek had made his prostate into a dick-punching bag. Dick-punching bag. Stiles snorted with laughter. And people said he wasn’t funny.

“What’s funny?” Stiles eyes focused on Derek’s face, his stubbled cheek resting on folded arms, a slight smile tugging his lips up. It was so rare to see Derek smile. Stiles offered a weak smile in response, knew his face looked kinda loopy, but refused to verbally answer. He might feel stoned, but he knew better than to answer that question. Instead he rolled over, cuddling himself against Derek’s side.

Derek sighed, a contented sound, the fingers of one of his arms playing idly with the short spikes of Stiles hair. Stiles wanted to stay that way forever. But he had questions. Lots of questions, and the slightly foggy feeling from the aftermath of great sex was already fading away in the wake of his paranoia and insecurity.

“So…” Stiles drew little circles on Derek’s back, drawing tiny contented noises from the prone man. He cleared his throat a bit. Derek opened one eye, peeking up at him. Oh man, this was going to be a hard conversation to have. But Stiles had been on the short end of more than one “secret” relationship and he was so not interested.

“So?” The word was rumbled from the center of Derek’s chest, it had to be, being that deep. It made Stiles stomach tremble with anticipation. Damn, just the man’s voice did crazy things to him.

“So, where do we go from here?” He said the words in a rush, the syllables running together slightly. He was so very afraid of this conversation. He’d liked Derek for a long time and now, after having had him, to lose him, would be so much worse than never having had him. Crap.

Derek just blinked up at him. His face held mild confusion, but mostly it was still the content set of a person who’d just had amazing sex. He shifted a bit, propping himself up on one elbow, half turning his chest towards Stiles, one leg drawing up to hide his junk. Stiles hadn’t taken Derek for a shy guy, but whatever. Focus!

“What do you mean?” The words were spoke carefully, cautiously. Stiles took a deep breath. All or nothing, now or never.

“I mean, us. If there is an us. If you want there to be. I mean I want there to be, but I’m definitely not going to push the issue if you don’t want there to be. An us, that is. I mean, what did this mean for you? Was it just like random, hot, steamy, blow your mind sex that only happens at night and in private and without anyone ever knowing? I mean are you even gay?!” Stiles was gasping for air. Crap, he’d run a whole lot together right there. But he was frazzled and his Adderall was definitely worn off by now.

Derek looked like Stiles had just hit him in the face with a frying pan instead of asking him to be his… whatever. Stiles waited. He waited a whole thirty seconds before his fidget got the better of him. He jumped to his feet, pacing a few feet away from Derek. Stupid. Stupid. Derek was just lying there with that dumbfounded look on his face, but Stiles could see his eyes twitching as he thought. Probably nothing good.

“Stiles..” The voice was a calming voice. Stiles had heard it before. It was the voice people used to reject you, to let you down easy. It was the voice people used when they were trying to get you to calm down. It was not the voice someone used when they wanted to ask you out.

“Nope, don’t even worry about. I’m totally cool. Totally fine. Just sex it is. Yep. Well, uh, I should…” Stiles motions helplessly at the tent flap, keeping his eyes pointedly away from Derek, who had returned to lying on his stomach. Stiles made a distressed noise. He didn’t know what he’d expected. Derek was an Adonis and Stiles was, well, Stiles. Of course he didn’t want to date him. Stupid. He might not even be out as gay. Whatever. Fuck it hurt to think that it was just sex, but maybe… No. Maybe’s weren’t anybody’s friend. “See ya.”

Stiles looked around for his boxers. He spotted them hanging from one of the roof supports for the tents canvas. Slightly out of his reach and on the other side of Derek. Well, maybe if he jumped..? Resigned to looking like a fool, Stiles  walked with determined purpose past Derek, resolute in his decision to not care. Also to not look down. Which is why he didn’t see Derek’s hand snake out and grab his ankle.

#

Ok, so Derek hadn’t really been thinking when he’d reached out to stop Stiles from leaving, but he’d been in a momentary panic. The thought of Stiles leaving… It made his stomach sour. And so he’d stuck out his arm and grabbed Stiles ankle as he passed. He had not expected Stiles to go down that hard. He should have, he realized. Stiles was anything but graceful. He tried not to laugh at the way Stiles cursed, tried not to find it quite so cute the way Stiles was holding his face with his hands and glaring over those beautiful fingers at him. But he couldn’t stop a small smile from quirking the edges of his mouth.

He’d felt dumbfounded when Stiles had broached the subject of an actual relationship. He’d never thought of it before- of him being able to have a relationship with anyone. After what his uncle and Kate Argent had done to his family, he’d been outcasted from other wolf clans, and dating humans was a sketchy and dangerous endeavor at best. But then there was Stiles. Cute, clumsy, sexy as hell Stiles. A potential mate, apparently, according to the knot that was slowly starting to subside.

Derek dragged Stiles to him with a quick jerk, then another pull to put him in place at Derek’s side. Or rather his front. Confident that his knot had faded enough to not be noticeable, Derek positioned Stiles chest to chest, enjoying the way Stiles heart kicked up with the proximity. His eyes flashed red for just a second as he watched Stiles lick his lips. Luckily Stiles was watching Derek’s lips. It was undoing, is what it was.

“Round two..?” Stiles voice was soft and tentative, questioning. Derek smiled, chuckled. He truly enjoyed this little spaz. He leaned down, placing kisses down Stiles temple to his ear.

“Technically, it would be round three,” he murmured, loving the way his voice made Stiles tremble. “But first, some details.” He pulled back, tipping up Stiles chin so that those beautiful amber eyes were looking up at him, focused. He shifted a bit, tangling their legs together. “Number one.” Derek held up one finger, crooking it to swat Stiles softly on the nose with it. “I am not gay.” Stiles eyes dilated, his breathing hitched. Shit. Derek rushed the next few words, hoping to allay the panic he could see building. Words were not his best suit. “I’m bi, and it’s not a secret to anyone who knows me.” Stiles lips formed a soft “o”. Derek smiled, using his thumbnail to softly trace the edge of Stiles full lower lip.

“Number two.” Derek threaded one of his hands into Stiles hair, cupping the back of his head. “I would be honored to be with you.” Then he kissed him. He’d had other things he’d wanted to say, other points that needed to be broached, but they could wait. Everything else could wait. He lost himself in the smell and feel of Stiles Stilinski, his new boyfriend. The night passed in a blur of sex, lingering touches, and the deep sleep of those who are content in their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my work and want to contribute on prompt requests or keep up to date on other writing projects, follow my tumblr theverbosequeen.tumblr.com


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